


nothing safe is worth the drive

by paradis



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Isaac/Stiles friendship, M/M, and also very smart, it's pretty much the main part of the story, stiles is probably pack mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradis/pseuds/paradis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes he talks to Stiles about it, though. Stiles, who will let Isaac lay in his bed, listening to Stiles’ music and drinking Stiles’ Diet Dr. Pepper while Stiles edits Isaac’s school essays, points out where there are run-on sentences, and where Isaac needs to break things into paragraphs, while Isaac lies there and thinks and thinks about his life and how he got here. He talks to Stiles about ice cream with his dad and lacrosse drills with Cam, and Stiles smiles sadly and says, “There’s another run-on sentence; you’re the worst with them. You use ‘and’ too much. What was his favorite ice cream flavor?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing safe is worth the drive

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally supposed to be an Isaac character study but then it turned into Scisaac and Sterek and Stiles being a total mom to Isaac because I have a weakness for Isaac being the pack bb. I have no apologies because I secretly really enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Thanks to my beautiful beta MirajaneScarlet who as usual got rid of a bunch of my commas and 'and's. 
> 
> title is stolen from T. Swift's 'Treacherous.'

Sometimes Isaac thinks about his brother and his dad. His mother left - ran away when Isaac was just two, so he doesn’t remember her. He remembers blonde hair and eyes that look just like his on her face, but that’s all. But his father and Cam, he remembers them. He remembers Cam’s laugh, big and belly-deep. He remembers the way Cam taught him to throw a baseball, all the different ways. He remembers Cam teaching him to swim and how to play lacrosse, because his dad was always busy working. He remembers his dad, when he was younger, he was always so much gentler then. His dad didn’t have a temper until Cam died, Isaac tells everyone, and it’s true. His dad used to be pretty amazing. He used to smile and laugh, and when he did, it didn’t have anything to do with punching Isaac in the face or locking him in a freezer. It had to do with the way Isaac chased after Cam, yelling about how he’d tag him if it was the last thing he did. It had to do with the way Isaac came home with bad grades and cried into his dad’s shoulder until his dad would crack the _silliest_ jokes to try and cheer him up, how he’d tell him that Isaac would do better next time, he knows it, and then take Isaac and Cam out for ice cream. 

Isaac thinks about them and it’s a painful ache, sharp and bright against his heart, always stabbing at it. 

Isaac never tells Derek when he’s thinking about them, because he knows how Derek feels about his father. He thinks his father was a waste of a human being and that Isaac should be kind of grateful he doesn’t have to put up with that anymore. But Isaac doesn’t see it in the same black and white way that Derek sees pretty much everything in his life. Isaac sees it like this: he was still his father, and sure, the days were dark and bleary in the end, but he still had good days with him, and he can’t just _un-love_ a man, his father, who gave him just as many, if not more, good memories as bad. 

Sometimes he talks to Stiles about it, though. Stiles, who will let Isaac lay in his bed, listening to Stiles’ music and drinking Stiles’ Diet Dr. Pepper while Stiles edits Isaac’s school essays, points out where there are run-on sentences, and where Isaac needs to break things into paragraphs, while Isaac lies there and thinks and thinks about his life and how he got here. He talks to Stiles about ice cream with his dad and lacrosse drills with Cam, and Stiles smiles sadly and says, “There’s another run-on sentence; you’re the worst with them. You use ‘and’ too much. What was his favorite ice cream flavor?” Because Stiles is smart, and he can multitask, and sometimes that appears more like ADD but Isaac knows it’s something Stiles has practiced long and hard, to make sure he can help and reassure and plan all at the same time. 

Isaac pauses, slurps Diet Dr. Pepper through a straw and gives a grin when Stiles glares at him for the noise. Finally he says, “Chocolate. Plain old chocolate. We both loved it.” 

The next day when Isaac shows up for Chemistry tutoring, he goes to find a snack in the fridge. Sitting right in the front, in the freezer, is a huge carton of chocolate ice cream. He gets them both a bowl. 

\--

Scott is Isaac’s best friend. Stiles is, too, but Scott is the one Isaac really connects with. They talk about stupid things, and sometimes they talk about really down to earth things, but when it comes down to it, Isaac knows two things: Scott will always have his back, and he will always have Scott’s back. Despite Scott constantly denying being a part of Derek’s pack, and then running _back_ to Derek’s pack when things start hitting the fan, Scott _is_ a part of Isaac’s pack, regardless of what Derek will say. 

Stiles is, too. Stiles takes care of him and listens when Isaac needs to talk about things that are painful and real, things fester inside him until he’s ready to explode. Stiles is the one who always notices first, the moment when it hits that he’s been thinking too much, when Isaac is too rough, forgetting his strength during lacrosse practice. When he’s running drills with Derek late into the night and ignoring every twinge and ache in his body, not even caring if they heal, because he needs a distraction. That’s when Stiles calls a halt to the drills and pulls Isaac out, forcing him into the Jeep and away from wherever they are. He talks and talks while he drives, until Isaac finally spills what’s on his mind. 

Derek is important because Derek is the one who rescued him. He’s the one that really, truly looks after Isaac, and he teaches him things that Isaac would never be able to learn from anyone else. He’s sort of a shitty alpha, Isaac knows, but he’s doing his best when it comes down to all the things standing in his way. Derek is so angry all the time, but Isaac notices the way his eyes soften when he’s talking to him, when Derek is teaching him some new skill, or helping with his homework. Derek is surprisingly good at trigonometry. When Isaac asks about it, Derek shifts on his feet a little, setting the pencil back down on the table and standing up straight. 

“I went to school,” he says. 

“High school,” Isaac says slowly. Derek shakes his head. 

“College, too.”

Isaac snaps his head up. He never pictured Derek as the college type, has always pictured him as a guy who kind of broods in his cave all day until he sneaks out in the night to buy all his necessities. Isaac feels kind of bad, but it’s not like Derek ever _offers_ information. “College?” he demands, kind of excited, “for what?” 

The dry chuckle that escapes Derek’s throat is quickly blocked off. He arches a brow. “It’s like you think I’m not a person,” he says. 

“I – for what?” Isaac demands this time, eager and avoiding Derek’s last statement. 

“Accounting,” Derek gestures towards the numbers scrawled across Isaacs notebook, “Numbers are something I’ve always been good at,” he shrugs. “We weren’t doing much in New York and Laura decided we should get some higher education instead of sitting around all the time.”

“That’s – that’s great,” Isaac breathes out, and something inside him swells, because now he has another little piece of Derek to keep for himself, private and real. 

He’s slowly collecting little pieces of all his pack members, he thinks. There’s the way Scott crinkles his nose when he’s confused, the way Stiles always has to have his pencil _in his hand_ tapping away at the desk while he studies, the way Jackson’s head seems to go to a different world when he’s training and practicing for lacrosse; like he’s separating the world from his work. There’s the way Derek always smiles just a little when Isaac says something silly, and the way Peter only pokes at Derek when Derek is in a bad mood, because it kind of lifts Derek’s spirits, having someone to banter with, whether he’ll ever admit it or not. And now there’s Derek. And college. Derek _in_ college, studying and taking tests and doing homework. Isaac has never imagined it before. 

Derek sits down in the beat up kitchen chair that’s placed in the middle of the abandoned subway station (they’re trying to make it look a little homey, Isaac defends, every time Stiles has a smart comment) and picks the pencil back up, twirling it. “Do you want to go to college, Isaac?” he asks him quietly. 

“I – I don’t know,” Isaac replies slowly, “I get okay grades, and I like helping at Dr. Deaton’s, so maybe I could be a vet?” Isaac makes it sound like a question, and Derek does that brief smile, the one that’s really only ever reserved for Isaac. 

“You’d be good at it,” Derek reassures him. “Now let’s get this done,” he nudges Isaac’s ankle with his foot, and they lean back down over the textbook, notebook, and calculator, Isaac once again firing off questions about equations he’s positive he’s never going to use.

Unless he gets an accounting degree.

==

“Do you ever think about college?” 

Scott squints at him. They never talk about deeply serious stuff like _college,_ and the _future,_ Isaac realizes; that’s why Scott looks confused. “I mean, my mom mentions it at least three times a day,” Scott finally says. “I guess I just… don’t know.”

“Did you take your SATs?” Isaac asks him, thanking the waitress as she sets his milkshake in front of him. He slurps it, and smacks his lips together, enjoying the taste of peanut butter settling on his tongue. 

Scott nods, “I didn’t get a fantastic score. Lydia and Stiles had the highest scores, you know.”

“What were they?” Isaac asks, because he doesn’t remember discussing this before. 

Scott squints again, trying to remember this time. “Stiles got 2200. Lydia got the perfect score.”

“Seriously,” Isaac sighs. He knows he’s not capable of that. He’s probably right next to Scott in the scores department, if he chooses to take them next fall. Something inside him really, really wants to, though; to prove to everyone that he _can_ do it. 

“Stiles would help you,” Scott says, like he just _knows._ Isaac knows this, too, but he still feels kind of guilty always asking for help from other people. 

“It’s not just that,” Isaac stirs his milkshake with his straw. “It’s… I wouldn’t have the money – for SATs, or for college. Financial aid would help but it wouldn’t be enough, you know?”

Scott looks at him for a long moment, lips parted, and Isaac is surprised when his brain echoes, _he looks really cute like that,_ and he tries to shut the thoughts off. “Derek would help,” Scott says slowly, and Isaac snaps his head up. 

“What? That’s crazy.”

Scott shakes his head, and when he looks up, something in his eyes look amused. “You don’t get it, do you? Derek is your family, dude. He really cares about you. The only other time he looks at someone like that is when – never mind,” Scott cuts himself off, shaking his head quickly again. 

“When what?” Isaac demands, but Scott is already talking again. 

“He’d do anything to help you, to make sure you’re happy,” Scott continues, “he doesn’t act like it, not usually. But you can see it, there, just barely,” Scott flashes a grin. “He loves you, dude.”

Isaac feels something in his heart swell a little, pure and bright happiness, warmth, spreading through him at the realization that it’s true, Derek _does_ love him. Derek is kind of like the big brother Isaac lost too soon, protective and gruff and teasing. Always looking out for him. Isaac relishes in the thrill of it. 

“Yeah,” Isaac says, shrugging like he’s indifferent, but Scott catches the grin on his face and rolls his eyes. He shoves Isaac with his shoulder and pokes him in the side.

“Don’t be afraid to ask, Isaac; they’ll all help you. I won’t be able to do much,” Scott admits, “but I’ll help you where I can.”

Isaac is silent for a moment. Then he says, “You’re already helping.” 

Scott’s grin is blinding. 

==

“I want to take my SATs next fall,” Isaac collapses on Stiles’ bed. Stiles whirls around on his computer chair and faces him.

“You are getting just as bad as your alpha when it comes to sneaking through windows to scare the shit out of people. Luckily, I’m no longer surprised,” Stiles says, laughing to himself, “and that’s great, Isaac!”

“I’m not prepared for them,” Isaac blurts out, “and I don’t know if it’ll matter anyways because I can’t afford college and I’m kind of terrified to leave anyways.”

Stiles stays quiet for a moment, tapping his pencil against the desk. He finally says, “I’ll help you study. And there are ways to afford college, Isaac. Financial aid –” 

“Won’t be enough,” Isaac says, already sure, and Stiles blinks at him. 

“There’s more than financial aid. There’s scholarships you can apply to, and… and Derek would help,” he finally says. 

“Scott said the same thing,” Isaac says in a small voice. Stiles stands up and comes over, collapsing on the bed next to Isaac. He tangles his hands in Isaac’s hair, and starts stroking it, soothing Isaac in a way that even Derek can’t. 

“Well, Scott’s not _usually_ right,” Stiles makes a noise in his throat, “but he is this time, okay? You want me to talk to him for you?”

Isaac lifts his head up to look at Stiles for a moment, “How is it that you’re so unafraid of Derek? I mean, he’s our alpha, you’re supposed to _submit_ to him. Even as a human I would want to, I think.”

Stiles makes another noise, this time something close to clicking his tongue, like he disapproves. “It’s not about being a human versus a werewolf when it comes to Derek. It’s about… showing him I’m standing my ground, especially when I know I’m right and he’s wrong – Derek sometimes doesn’t think rationally in the face of a threat against his pack, his family. So someone has to be there to do that. It just so happens that I’m actually really good at that. It comes with being mouthy.” 

Isaac snorts, “And you _do_ have that down,” he says. 

Stiles laughs under his breath. “I’ll talk to him, okay? Just tell me when.”

“’Kay,” Isaac mumbles, before he slips off into sleep, dreaming about numbers and essays, about Stiles and Derek arguing, of Scott’s laugh and his smile; the twinkle in his eyes when he stares up at Isaac.

They’re good dreams. 

==

A week later, Stiles pulls up to the subway station and strides in like he owns the place, hollering for Derek and Isaac. Isaac flinches because this is _not_ the way to get anything out of Derek. But it apparently doesn’t affect Derek anymore, because he strides out of his makeshift bedroom, arms crossed, and only looking a bit annoyed. 

“Sit,” Stiles tells him. Isaac shifts on his feet next to Stiles and shoots him a _look,_ that Stiles completely ignores.

Derek growls, “I’m not a dog.”

“That’s not what I meant – well maybe I kind of meant it like that – Christ, just _sit down,_ ” Stiles says, forcing himself to focus. Derek stands for another moment, like he’s just proving he’s doing it because he _wants_ to, not because Stiles _told_ him to, and after he sits down, he arches a brow at Isaac, like he’s asking, _what did you do?_

Isaac resists the urge to hold Stiles’ hand for comfort for maybe three seconds, before he grips it tightly. Derek’s eyes get even more curious, while Stiles gives him a comforting pat on the shoulder with his other hand. Stiles keeps ahold of his hand though, which is even more comforting. He turns back to Derek. 

“Isaac has something he wants to discuss, but he was worried about talking to you,” Stiles says, giving Derek a hard look that Isaac clearly reads as _be nice to him,_ and Isaac’s feathers sort of ruffle at the look. He loves Stiles, but sometimes he is so overprotective. 

“Really,” Derek says. Peter comes in at this moment. 

“Oh, boy,” Peter says sarcastically, and flops down on the ratty couch next to Derek. “I can’t wait to hear this.” Isaac huffs out a frustrated sigh, and Stiles squeezes his hand once in reassurance. 

“Isaac wants to go to college,” Stiles says defiantly, glaring at Peter. Peter’s mouth drops open. 

“Good lord,” he drawls, “I thought you two were together or something. _That_ would have been an issue.” Isaac gapes at him. Peter blinks pointedly at Isaac’s hand, still in Stiles, and Stiles rolls his eyes while they have silent communication.

“One, you’re an idiot,” he tells Peter, “Two, I can be with whomever I want so I don’t possibly see how that’s an issue.”

Derek growls low in his throat at the same time Peter gives Stiles a wicked grin, “Yes,” Peter murmurs thoughtfully, “I suppose you’re right.” Derek turns and looks at him, for all the world looking like he’s ready to tear Peter’s throat out for a second time. Peter gets that look a lot, Isaac thinks. 

Derek turns back to Isaac, “Why is this an issue?” Derek demands. Isaac swallows. 

“I can’t – I don’t – ” Isaac stumbles over his words, and Derek stares at him for a long moment, before he turns to Stiles, brow arched expectantly. 

“He can’t afford it, Derek,” Stiles says quietly, “but he really wants to go.”

Peter chuckles, “I’m sure we could manage to arrange something, pup.” 

Derek glowers at Peter before turning back to Isaac. The look on his face softens. “You don’t have to worry, Isaac,” he says quietly, still kind of gruffly. “We’ll take care of it, okay?” Isaac breathes out a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks, Derek,” Isaac says in a small voice, and Stiles grins beside him. He turns to Isaac and hugs him tightly, whispering in his ear.

“See, what was there to worry about?” he asks gently. “Now, you just have to study.”

Isaac calms down. “Thanks, Stiles,” he breathes out. 

Stiles pulls away, “Right then. I have to go home and make dinner for my dad,” he stops right before the door and glares at Derek. “The window is locked, so you better text before you make an attempt to break and enter.”

Derek growls. “Shut up, Stiles.” Isaac grins. 

“Are you coming?” Stiles demands of Isaac, and Isaac stumbles, running over to Stiles’ side. It’s Tuesday night, and every Tuesday, Isaac eats with Stiles and his father and Scott. Stiles’ cooking is possibly the best thing Isaac has ever had. 

“Don’t be too late,” Derek calls out to Isaac, and Isaac grins. 

He does love him. 

==

While Stiles is reviewing their homework, Isaac and Scott are drifting away on his bed when his cell phone rings. “Yes?” he sleep-slurs. 

“Why did I get called in for, and I quote, a ‘parent-teacher conference’?” Derek demands, a low growl over the phone. Isaac’s heart skips a beat. “Isaac?”

“They’re required,” Isaac mumbles, “and I don’t have anyone, not really, so I put you down as my emergency contact and stuff.”

“You – what?” Derek says over the phone, and he sounds like he’d grinding his teeth. 

“I’m sorry,” Isaac cries, “I wouldn’t have done it if I knew you were going to be angry, I’m sorry, Derek.” He’s panicking a little, and Stiles whirls around in the chair, looking at him with concern. He looks halfway to jumping out of the chair and snatching the phone out of Isaac’s hands to defend him, but he keeps still. 

“No – Isaac – no,” Derek says over the phone, sounding kind of panicked himself, “That’s not what – I’ll go to the stupid conference,” he says finally. “I just didn’t – I was confused.”

Isaac breathes out. “Okay,” he says, “thanks, Derek.”

“Make sure you’re home soon, or you text me if you’re staying there,” he tells him, his way of protecting Isaac, and making sure he’s safe.

“Sure,” Isaac says, and hangs up the phone. Scott shifts next to him, mumbling something sleepily. Across the room, Stiles huffs, looking relieved. 

“Why do I get stuck reviewing _your_ homework while you guys sleep?” he asks. Isaac gives him a grin. 

“Because you’re a good best friend,” he says. “Can I sleep now? You too, Stiles. That’s not due until Friday.” 

Stiles sighs. “Yeah, yeah, alright.” He shuts his laptop and shuffles the papers on his desk into a neat pile, before flicking the lamp off. “Text Derek,” he mumbles as he snuggles in behind Isaac, “don’t want him to worry.” 

Isaac slides his finger across the unlock button and shoots a quick text off to Derek telling him he’ll be at Stiles’ house for the night, before turning it off and resting his head on Stiles’ chest. His ankles are tangled with Scott’s, and Scott mumbles sleepily again when Isaac shifts. “Too warm,” Stiles whines, but he falls asleep stroking Isaac’s hair anyway. 

==

“Really,” Derek says flatly, and flicks the bedside lamp on. 

“Oh, my god,” Stiles whines, half-asleep. “Turn it off you monster.” He curls up behind Isaac tighter. Scott whines. 

“Light hurts,” he says, burying his nose in Isaac’s neck. Isaac feels something like pleasure float through him. 

“You look ridiculous,” Derek says, all hushed tones. 

“Then what’re you doing here?” Stiles retorts, sleep-slurred and confused. 

“I – it’s – Peter’s driving me crazy,” Derek growls. Stiles prods at Isaac, so that Isaac shifts over until he’s practically on top of Scott. Scott whines a little under his breath before settling back down and falling into sleep. 

“’S all you get,” Stiles says, “don’t be a cover hog.” Isaac watches as Derek stares at them in disbelief for a moment, before he crawls in behind Stiles. Stiles makes a contented noise before falling back asleep, too. Isaac stares at Derek and Derek stares back for a long moment, before he buries his nose in Stiles shoulder blade and inhales deeply. Isaac senses the moment everyone is asleep in the bed but him, hears their heartbeats even out, and gives a sleepy soft smile, before drifting off into sleep, too. 

==

Isaac wakes up to the sounds of Derek and Stiles whispering furiously. “You’re absolutely _not_ ,” Stiles is whispering, and Isaac frowns, wondering what they’re talking about. 

“I can do this on my own, Stiles. I don’t need any backup or research to run the border. Jesus, Stiles.”

“Don’t tell me you think there’s a disturbance and then tell me you’re going to run the border of your territory without any _backup,_ ” Stiles whispers back angrily. “That’s the stupidest thing ever.” 

“I don’t see the problem,” Derek says simply, “I said I _thought_ there was a disturbance.” 

“Thought,” Stiles says flatly. “Because we’re never right when we _think_ , right? It’s when we _think_ there’s something going on that there usually is, and then you try to be all Alpha-y and independent and get yourself injured.”

“I don’t know why you’re so worried. Christ, Stiles, keep your voice down.” There’s a thud, and Isaac feels a breeze as Stiles gets out of the bed and opens the window wide. 

“Go, Derek,” Stiles says tonelessly, emotionlessly, and Isaac’s heart beats a little faster when he realizes that this means Stiles is _truly_ angry, and disappointed, too. “Go run your border without help, but don’t come to me when you’re bleeding and need a place to hide.”  
There’s complete silence, save for the sound of Scott’s snoring while Isaac waits for Derek’s reply. But Derek doesn’t say anything; he just crosses the room and climbs out the window wordlessly, and Stiles shuts it behind him. Isaac thinks, _Derek’s shitty at the love thing, too_ , and waits for Stiles to climb back into bed. When he does, he stays on the far side, away from Isaac and Scott, until Isaac turns over and wraps his arms around him. “He’s pretty dumb, right?” Isaac whispers to Stiles. Stiles stops breathing for a split second, before he laughs softly. 

“He’s not too smart,” he agrees. “Neither is Scott.” 

Isaac buries his nose in Stiles’ neck and falls back asleep thinking about how Stiles knew about Isaac’s feelings for Scott and wondering why Stiles was so worried about Derek in the first place. 

==

Isaac is sitting in the subway station, kicking his foot against the table leg and trying to focus on editing his English essay, following Stiles corrections and suggestions, when the door bangs open and the sharp tang of blood fills his nose. He looks up, and Derek is dragging himself over the threshold, shirt bloodstained, and clutching at his side. Isaac’s mouth opens, then closes. Then opens again. “Oh, boy,” he says. 

Derek snaps his head up to look at him and growls, “Don’t even.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Isaac protests. 

“It’s fine, I handled it,” Derek continues, “it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“You should –” 

“It’s not like I need Stiles anyway,” he fumes, “but he doesn’t have to turn me away so rudely when I only want to protect people.” The unspoken _him_ echoes around the room. Isaac closes his mouth again. Derek never really goes on Stiles-sized rants, but he has been known to rant a little when things start really getting to him. Isaac just lets him go, because for a guy that speaks so little, he sure can talk to himself a lot. 

“And besides, once I slap some wolfsbane on this, it’ll be fine,” he says. 

Isaac winces. “We don’t have any here.” Derek stops in his tracks and turns around to look at Isaac, who is now chewing on his bottom lip and trying not to make eye contact with him. 

“We – what?” Derek demands. 

“We um… don’t have any here? And you’re due for my parent-teacher conference in an hour,” he adds, shutting his eyes quickly so he doesn’t see the flash of anger soar through Derek’s eyes. 

Derek growls. “Fuck.” Something is thrown and Isaac flinches unwillingly. 

“I’ll call Stiles,” Isaac says softly. “I’ll tell him it’s for me.”

Derek doesn’t say anything. 

In the end, even though Stiles yells and screams into the phone about how he said _no, no, no_ and Isaac has to listen to it and sound severe when he tells Stiles he told Derek that, Stiles still comes over. He slaps the aconite powder against Derek kind of viciously and glares at him while he writhes on the floor, the wound healing itself. “Jesus,” Derek hisses, sitting up finally. 

“I’m not talking to you,” Stiles snaps. He shoves a clean shirt and Derek’s jacket at him and points to the bathroom. “Go change. You have to be at Isaac’s thing in twenty minutes.” 

Isaac watches as Derek grunts and takes the clothes before standing up and going to the bathroom. He comes out, wearing a nice grey sweater and a pair of black dress pants. Stiles gawks, and Isaac clears his throat. Derek scratches the back of his neck and says, “This is okay, right? It’s not – I don’t…” 

“It’s fine,” Stiles says, standing up straighter. “It’s fine. Now remember to ask Mr. Harris about giving Isaac extra credit and don’t be afraid to drop the _he’s been through a lot_ line. His English grade is really great and so is his trig grade – though I haven’t had to help him as much with that, so he must be catching on really well.” Isaac smirks and meets Derek’s eyes. He notices that Derek’s eyes are twinkling with amusement as he listens to Stiles, and that’s when he realizes, _Derek does love Stiles._

Derek’s just shitty with his emotions, like Stiles has always said. 

“Stiles,” Derek says, and Stiles keeps plowing over him to talk, telling him about how Isaac hasn’t turned his Econ paper in yet but that’s just because Stiles is editing it and he’ll be turning it in on time. 

“So don’t get mad when Finstock starts yelling!” Stiles finishes.

“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” Derek says, and tries to look like he’s mourning the fact that Stiles chose to ignore that rule. Stiles glares at him and jabs him hard in the side, once. 

“Go,” Stiles says, “before I throw some of that aconite in your face.” 

Derek just shakes his head, picks up his wallet, shoves it into the back pocket of his jeans, and walks out. “Thanks,” Isaac says to Stiles, falling onto the beat up couch in the middle of the room. “I was really worried.”

Stiles shakes his head. “I knew something was gonna happen. I _knew_ it.” 

“Are you in love with Derek?” Isaac asks him suddenly, looking up, wide eyed. Stiles stares back, mouth half open, blinking. “It’s okay,” Isaac reassures him. “I mean – I just. Derek deserves to be loved. Properly.” 

“I do,” Stiles says quickly. “We’re – he – sometimes we… sometimes we talk about it,” Stiles shrugs. “He’s always sneaking into my room, you know. But we’re just… taking it slow. He’s told me he likes me, and I’ve told him. We just… he thinks about my future a lot. He doesn’t want to ruin it. And I keep telling him he won’t. It’s an ongoing argument, I guess, you know?” 

Isaac does know. He doesn’t sleep well at night so he always hears Derek trying to quietly sneak out and head to Stiles’ house, to sneak into his room and sleep in his bed. He’s always back to take Isaac to school, though, even though Isaac swears to him he can take the bus. 

“What about you?” Stiles asks Isaac then, and Isaac snaps his head up. 

“What about me?” Isaac asks him weakly, staring at the wall behind Stiles instead of directly at him. 

Stiles sits down on the couch next to him and pokes him in the side once, probably hard, Isaac thinks, but Isaac isn’t affected by it too much. “Just what I said.” He offers a smile. “I see the way you look at Scott.”

“Scott would have to have like, an identity crisis before he would love me,” Isaac says.

“Scott already loves you.”

Isaac replies, “As a friend.” 

Stiles shrugs. “You don’t know how he loves you, because you don’t choose to ask him, Isaac.” 

“Do you know Derek loves you?” Isaac retorts, and Stiles’ eyes shutter. He squints at Isaac for a moment before he shrugs.

“Derek isn’t good at saying those kinds of things,” Stiles says slowly. “The thing with Derek is… trust doesn’t come easy. He trusts you. He trusts me…” Stiles trails off, and Isaac nods.

“But he doesn’t trust Scott or Peter. Or Jackson,” Isaac adds.

“Peter killed his sister,” Stiles says automatically. “Scott won’t join his pack. Jackson refuses to submit, even now, after we saved his stupid ass.” Stiles shakes his head.

“But you’re pack? Derek’s pack? I know you’re mine,” Isaac says. “And I know you’re Scott’s.” 

Stiles shakes his head. “I’m… pack, yes. I don’t think I could _not_ be pack now, after all the help I’ve given. I think it makes Scott mad,” Stiles grimaces. “But I’m pack. Derek’s pack. He just… he doesn’t ask me about it, because he’s afraid of the answer, I think.”

“Like he doesn’t tell you he loves you,” Isaac says softly. “Or ask if you love him.” 

Stiles shrugs again. “Nobody said it’d be easy, falling in love with Derek Hale. I never figured I’d be spending my senior year trying to convince him that I _do_ love him though.” 

“Do you think,” Isaac starts, and then cuts himself off. He shakes his head. 

“What, Isaac?” Stiles asks him gently. 

“Do you think Scott is over Allison? Do you think that he’ll ever be over Allison?”

Stiles says, “Allison was Scott’s first love. But she really screwed him up that last time around. And they were never really that great for each other, you know?” 

“I don’t know,” Isaac says simply, flatly. “Because she’s still all Scott ever thinks about.” 

Stiles tries not to give Isaac a look of pity, Isaac can tell, but he doesn’t manage all that well. Instead he just says, “He’ll realize eventually that there are better things out there for him,” and pats Isaac’s shoulder, and Isaac realizes Stiles means, _he’ll realize you’re there, that you love him, eventually,_ and Isaac loves him for it, that he’s trying to reassure him, but it doesn’t convince Isaac any more than before. 

They sit there on the couch and wait for Derek to come back in silence. When Derek comes back Stiles yells at him some more before he goes home, kissing both Isaac _and_ Derek on the cheek, leaving Derek wide eyed and Isaac smothering giggles behind his hand as he runs to his bed to hide from Derek. 

==

“You need an apartment,” Scott announces. 

“Scott,” Derek says flatly. 

“You do. I refuse to keep coming to this stupid subway station where I feel like the rust might kill me,” Scott kicks at one of the old subway cars and Isaac is offended because that’s _his_ room, thank you very much. 

“I expected this from Stiles,” Derek says. “But it’s really none of your business. You’re not pack.” Isaac glances over at Scott and he looks offended for a moment.

“But I’m still attending pack meetings,” Scott says finally. “And I’m not attending them here anymore.” 

“He’s right,” Jackson says, coming up behind Scott. His nose is wrinkled in disgust. “You need someplace… nicer. I have my parents’ realtor’s card in my wallet.” Jackson reaches into his jeans and pulls his wallet out, starting to shuffle through it. “Here,” he shoves the card at Derek.

Derek takes it in between two fingers like it might kill him, and Isaac rolls his eyes. “This meeting is over,” Derek says gruffly, still holding the business card delicately. He eyes Scott. “Unless you have something you want to say. Or maybe something else to offend me with,” Derek adds dryly. 

“Yeah,” Scott says quickly. “Your alpha skills leave a lot to be desired if you want to recruit _me_ for your pack.” 

Derek gives him a dirty look. 

Scott flashes Isaac a smirk and runs out of the station like his pants are on fire. Jackson follows behind at his own leisurely pace. When it’s just Isaac and Derek left, Isaac turns to Derek. “Where was Stiles tonight?” Derek blinks at him before he groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“We had a fight,” Derek admits. 

Isaac frowns. “Is he –” 

“It was my fault,” Derek interrupts, and shifts on his face. “Just – Isaac? Don’t – don’t wait to tell someone you love them, okay?” He glances towards the door, where Scott has just run out, and Isaac frowns even deeper. 

“Stiles –” Derek shakes his head and scrubs at his face. 

“I’m working on it,” Derek says gruffly. “Just – maybe you should too.”

“You’re really bad at this,” Isaac says, and flashes a grin when Derek reaches out to swat at his head, before running back to his bed. 

==

“So you managed to convince Derek,” Isaac says, licking at his ice cream cone. Scott snorts and shakes his head before slurping on his milkshake. 

“I didn’t convince him of anything,” Scott replies. “Stiles did. I went to him and asked him to make him look for an apartment, and Stiles got this look on his face before he said, ‘he owes me one anyway,’ and ran out of my house.” Scott shakes his head again, rolling his eyes.

“Do you know –” 

Scott crinkles his nose. Isaac thinks it’s adorable. “I try not to think about it, dude. Whatever they have – it’s good, it’s solid. Derek’s trying to avoid it because he wants Stiles to be able to go to whatever college he wants, or something. That’s what Stiles says, anyway. But Stiles has already decided to go to the community college. He decided it way before he ever even fell in love with Derek. Maybe before he met Derek, even. He says he can’t leave his dad.” 

“But he could get into any college he wants,” Isaac blurts. 

“Yeah,” Scott agrees. “Apparently Derek thinks so, too. They’ve been bargaining, I guess.”

“Bargaining,” Isaac repeats, arching a brow at Scott. 

Scott nods. “Like, if Stiles agrees to at least go to Stanford Derek will stop trying to avoid their relationship. Stiles is trying to convince him to move with him.”

“What?” Isaac yelps. Scott grimaces. 

“The whole pack, really. Jackson’s already going to Stanford on an athletic scholarship. Lydia got her acceptance letter yesterday. Stiles told me there’s this nice community college near there, too. He keeps telling me I should go.” Scott shrugs. 

“And me?” 

“I believe he’s planning on talking to you, next. If he can get us all to go he thinks Derek won’t have a choice but to follow. Derek keeps telling him he needs to experience college without a serious relationship to ‘hinder’ things.” There are air quotes around ‘hinder’ and Isaac resists the urge to laugh. 

He says quietly, seriously, “I would go. If…” he picks at his jeans. “If you went,” he clears his throat, still staring down at the denim. “I would go.” 

When he looks up, Scott is staring at him with warm brown eyes and a gentle smile. “Good,” Scott says. “I don’t think I’d like being down there without you.” Oddly enough, Scott almost looks surprised by himself saying this out loud, like he’d never realized it before. 

“Good,” Isaac smiles back. 

Scott rests his head on Isaac’s shoulder and slurps on his milkshake some more.

==

“We’re going, Derek, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. And so help me god if you send your pack down there without an alpha there will be _consequences._ ”

“How do they even know even know they like each other enough to live together?” Jackson mutters under his breath to Isaac and Scott, and they all flinch when the sound of plates being thrown in the sink is loud and harsh, even from Stiles’ living room. 

“They make out all the time in between the fighting,” Scott whispers back to them. He looks thoroughly grossed out. 

“Oh, ew,” Isaac says. “That’s like thinking about your parents or something.” Jackson gags.

Across the room, Lydia sighs loudly. “We all know Derek’s going to say yes,” she says, and doesn’t even try to whisper. “He’s not going to leave _you_ , or Stiles unprotected.” She points at Isaac.

“What about me?” Jackson sounds offended. Lydia rolls her eyes. 

“Derek knows you and Scott can handle yourselves. He’s most worried about Isaac because he loves Isaac most, and Stiles, because he loves Stiles even more than Isaac – in a different way.” She makes an obscene gesture that Isaac thinks Lydia should never, _ever_ make again. 

Derek comes into the room looking both properly guilty and ashamed. Stiles isn’t behind him, but Isaac can hear him muttering under his breath and doing dishes in the kitchen. “You can all go to Stanford and the surrounding colleges,” he tells them, and Jackson relaxes beside Isaac. Lydia gives him a smirk that says, _I told you so._

Scott stands up. “I’ll do it,” he tells Derek. 

Derek looks shocked, but there’s a pleased shine to his eyes, when he realizes what, exactly, Scott means. “Why now?” he rumbles.

Scott shifts a little on his feet. “Because… because my friends are this pack. And you’re not my favorite person still, but –” he breaks off for a second and glances towards the kitchen where Stiles is still muttering under his breath. “But you’ve done everything you can to protect me and teach me, and it’s evident that you care about this pack – about _me._ About Stiles. And Stiles needs someone to care about him and love him. I realized a little while ago that I was only holding out because I was hoping Allison would come back. But she’s never going to,” Scott shrugs. “And I’m okay with that. I – there are other people out there for me.” Isaac thinks he’s imagining the way Scott glances back at him. 

Derek nods, seeming to take his answer seriously. His eyes start to glow, and he growls a little. Scott’s own eyes glow, but instead of fighting back as he’s always done before, Scott meets his eyes, and tilts his head back, baring his neck just that much, and averts his eyes. 

And that’s all there is to Scott becoming a part of the pack. Isaac knows that Jackson feels it, because he can feel it too, the sudden hum of energy buzzing underneath his skin that says his pack – his _actual, honest to God pack_ \- has suddenly grown. His pack is finally whole, Isaac thinks, feeling pleased. 

“There’s something else,” Derek says as Scott sits back down, looking pleased with himself. 

“Oh no,” Isaac says before thinking about it. 

Derek shoots him a look. “It’s just that when you say something like that it usually means there’s bad news following.” 

“It’s not bad news,” Derek says slowly. “But… I’m moving with you.” 

Lydia hums under her breath, and it’s her turn to receive a glare from Derek. 

“Stiles has been apartment hunting and has found one that’ll fit the both of us.”

“In one room,” Lydia smirks. Derek growls. “What?” she spreads her hands. “We all know you two want to fuck. The sexual tension in the room when you and Stiles are there, or Isaac and –never mind,” she snaps her mouth shut when Derek’s eyes flash. 

“Isaac and who?” Scott asks, looking confused. Isaac sinks into the couch. 

“Wow, look at the time,” Jackson says, not even glancing at his watch _or_ the clock. “I just remembered Lydia and I have somewhere to be. As in – anywhere but here.” 

He grabs Lydia’s arm and pulls her out of the living room towards the door. “’Bye, Stiles!” Lydia calls before the door slams, and there are muffled shouts as Jackson presumably shoves Lydia into the car. 

Derek is scratching the back of his neck, looking at the floor awkwardly. “I’ll just –” he hooks a thumb towards the kitchen, and disappears quickly. 

“What,” Scott starts, but then shakes his head. Then he tries again. “What were they talking about, Isaac? Are you – do you – are you interested in someone?” 

Isaac thinks about this question and how to answer it very quickly. There are a lot of ways he’s imagined confessing his love to Scott, but he has to be honest. This isn’t one of them. He’s imagined cheesy romantic things – saying it right before they left for school. Shouting it in the pouring rain. Getting to an argument and admitting it (but Stiles and Derek have that one down). They’re all ways this could’ve gone, but instead, it’s because Lydia blurted the secret first. 

“Yes,” Isaac finally answers. 

Scott looks hurt, Isaac thinks, and that’s not a look Isaac ever likes seeing on Scott’s face. “Oh,” Scott says quietly. “I just – thought you’d at least tell me.” 

“I didn’t know how.”

“What do you mean? You can tell me anything!” Scott protests. 

“Yeah but, can I really tell you that I’m in love with you? That the only thing I want to do is kiss you senseless? That when we’re, you know –” Isaac gestures toward the couch, hopefully getting across that he means _cuddling._ “I just want to be closer. Even though we’re already so incredibly close. That you smell like home and happiness and peace, and I never, ever want to let it go.” 

There’s incredible silence in the room, and there’s not even the sound of Stiles and Derek doing dishes or talking in the kitchen. Isaac looks at the wall, feeling awkward.

Then, “You smell that way, too.”

“ _What?_ ” 

Scott lifts his shoulder in a shrug, and stares at Isaac. “You smell like that too. It took me a long time to figure it out, but – you do. It took me a long time to realize what it meant. Stiles – Stiles had to explain it.” Scott laughs a little. 

“Oh my god,” Isaac breathes. 

They stare at each other for a long moment before Isaac launches himself across the couch and kisses Scott until he’s breathless. 

It’s pretty perfect, Isaac thinks. It’s heat and wet warmth, and Scott’s tongue tentatively flickering across Isaac’s bottom lip, and Scott’s hands moving up under his tee to wrap around his hips and squeeze. It’s Isaac, breathless against Scott’s lips when he pulls away to look at him, and Scott, his eyes dancing with amusement and lust, panting back against Isaac’s lips. 

Isaac can’t help it – he leans back down and kisses him.

“Hey – no! No, no!” Isaac hears Stiles distantly in the background. “Absolutely not! Off the couch! No!” he shouts. “No making out on this couch. Derek, tell them!” 

There’s an amused rumble of laughter behind him as Isaac kisses Scott once, twice, three more times. “No making out on the couch,” Derek says flatly behind them. 

“Listen to your alpha!” Stiles shrieks, and it sounds a lot like _listen to your father,_ to Isaac, but it also sounds like family, and home.

And Isaac knows now that’s the best feeling in the world, so he treasures it.


End file.
